


Drivin' Through The Suburbs

by gangfriend



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Friendship, Gap Filler, Mick POV (Good Girls), POV Rio (Good Girls), a mickfic, besties, boys bein boys, conversations in cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:08:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gangfriend/pseuds/gangfriend
Summary: 5 Times Mick and Rio were in a car together and 1 time they were also still in a car together.Some filler Mick/Rio conversations as they drive to and from the 'burbs.Season 1 leading up to Season 3.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio, Mick/Rio (Good Girls)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 91





	1. one.

"You ready?"

Rio watched the embers of his joint flicker and snuff as he twirled it in the ash. He coughed through an itch in his throat before hoisting himself upward.

They sat in comfortable silence for the majority of the drive, speaking only to double check directions. His mind was in a relaxed haze, the sun beaming into the passenger seat.

“Who the fuck comes all the way downtown just to go to _Fine_ and _Frugal_?” Rio wondered out loud, emphasis on that grimy little place. His head was resting against the cool window. “Theres gotta be some bougie ass white lady store nearby right?”

“These ladies wanted the city experience.” Mick gruffed

Rio huffed a laugh. They sure as hell were gonna get one. Jesus.

And it was a pain in his ass, all of it, but at least he was pleasantly high and the birds were chirpin’. Aint nothing he had to do today anyways.

Two car doors slammed, and they made their way up the driveway to the sounds of Dags’ truck coming to a stop behind them. Rio bent down to pick up some mail on the doorstep.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dean Boland”

He shuffled through the bills and invitations, eyebrows raised.

 _“Eliza_ beth.”

Mick chuckled, shaking his head as he shimmied the lock.

* * *

Rio piled back into the seat, shutting the door behind him. Mick followed and they glanced at one another before bursting into laughter.

 _“Misses_ BOLAND.” Rio tilted his head back, drawing each syllable out in a drawl. “ _Damn!”_

“She’s stacked man.”

“Shit. Who woulda thought.”

Sighing through the end of his snickering, Rio slapped both hands down on his knees.

“You talked about her backsplash a whole bunch.”

Laughter bubbled back up in his throat. “Helluva backsplash.”

“Shouldna let you smoke up.”

He lolled his head to the side, eyes dancing. “Did the job though didn’t I?”

“Nah.” Mick was smirking but eyes remained on the road.

“Com’n her and her lady friends were shakin’”

“Shakin’ about the lemon on the fuckin’ granite, sure.”

They chuckled as the car rolled on, the suburbs slipping away with the sun.

“Think they’ll pay up?”

There was a groan as Rio shifted in his seat, flexing his fingers along the dash.

“Neighborhood like this? Everybody knows someone who knows someone with a trust fund.”

Mick’s lighter flickered, followed by long, rasping inhale. “And a boat.”

Smoke swirled lazily through the open window up into the purple sky.

“And a boat.” Echoed Rio.

* * *

“Yeah they don’ got jack.”

“And hows that?”

“Lady at the diner begged for more time. If you don got 60Gs by today, it aint comin’ by tomorrow.”

_“Hi and welcome to Burger King. May I take your order?”_

“Whaddya want?”

“Number 7. Big fries.”

“Don be eatin’ in this car though”

“You getting anything?

"Nah"

“Nah?"

‘Bad for your health’

‘Tell you what’s bad for your health, gettin’ robbed blind by these suburban bitches.’

‘Yeah?’ Rio glared over his shoulder while reaching his arm across to grab the large soda coming through the window.

“and you think I’m just gonna let them get away with this huh?”

There was a long, obnoxious slurp. "s’long as I get my money back.”

“ _My_ money. _Mine_ "

* * *

“You got sumthin’ to say?”

Rio didn’t respond. His lips couldn’t help but twist into a smug grin. He popped his hoodie in an attempt to hide the excitement that was pooling in his chest and escaping through his eyes.

“You think those bitches aren’t on the fuckin phone right this moment? You tellin’ me they aren’t sobbing and spinning some bullshit to any ol’ officer in these city limits?”

Micks voice was barely cutting through; a murmur below an ocean of thoughts.

Elizabeth would blend in anywhere. She could smuggle. She could sell. And she doesn’t crack under pressure that’s for fuckin sure. Shit, it was like she lit up once she felt the gun to her temple. Now, he ain’t about to get involved with whatever crazy lurked beneath her suburban mama sweaters but god _damn_ if it wouldn’t be useful.

 _She’s perfect._ He shook his head in content disbelief as his key twisted the ignition. It was Push to Start, but there was just somethin’ about keys.

Mick was eyeing him with weary contempt, waiting.

“Nah. She ain’t gonna call the police”.

He rolled those tired eyes before defiantly fixing them forward.

“Donchu worry about it. I got plans” Rio knew he was laying it on a bit too thick, drawing out each word all lazy and dismissive. 

There was a thud as Mick tossed his gun, silencer and all, in the dash compartment, slamming the door shut.

“Bet ya fuckin’ do”

* * *

They groaned in unison as finally, _finally_ an empty space came into view. They were late for a meet and the streets downtown were unsusually packed for such a late hour. Some concert or somethin'. 

Rio ran the heel of his hand over his eyes, rolling his shoulders out. It'd been a long day. 

"K, you got a buck? Pay the meter, ill get the bags."

"I don got cash"

"Whattaya mean"

"I only got hundreds. You got any small stuff?"

Rio looted through his pockets, turning up only crinkled receipts and one of Marcus' candy wrappers. 

They stared at one another, then glanced to the back seat. Bags and bags of funny money, not one single true American dollar. 

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

* * *

“So?”

“So what?”

Rio fanned a wad of freshly washed cash under Mick’s nose before dropping it dramatically back into the open duffel bag. A slight twitch of his eye was the only reaction.

“Com’n…”

“They got lucky.”

“Suit yourself.” Rio was grinning ear to ear, the image of Elizabeth on that stupid swingset, all triumphant-like, made his head swim. Ain’t nothing he loved more than bein’ right and getting rich, except maybe a Bad Bitch doin’ all the work.

A zipper cut through their momentary silence and Rio glanced over, gleeful. Mick was flipping through some stacks near the top, a slow smile creasing his eyes.

“Mrs. B…” He chuckled incredulously. “The boys know you got these 3 on payroll?”

“Some of ‘em”

“Aint no one suspecting Betty Crocker over there.”

‘That’s what I been sayin’”

“Shit.”

Mick slowly closed the bag, peering over the disappearing stacks with reverence. He slowly turned.

“Let’s get fuckin tanked.”

"There he is!"

The car roared to life over the sound of their whooping laughter.

* * *

“You still in for tonight?”

“Can’t”  
  
“And whys that?”

“Gotta stop by the Boland residence.”

“The BO-lands.” Mick popped the B, turning the word over absentmindedly as he weaved through evening traffic.

 _The Boland’s._ Fuck. One million kids, and Mr. Boland himself. That deadbeat frat-boy lookin’ motherfucker.

They’d looked into him a couple weeks back, mostly just for fun, mocking his cheesy ass commercials and pitiful stock investments until tears were leaking from their eyes. Rio’s chest had ached the next day from doubling over at Mick’s “Come on down to BO-land motors”.

“What’s Mrs. B up to these days?”

“Takin' her pretty little time washin’ my cash.”

“Oh you gonna give her a _talkin_ ’ to huh? “

“Shut up man.”

* * *

“Drop me off on 6th.”

“Thought you were meetin’ Big Al tonight.”

“Gotta meet the girls.”

* * *

“What the fuck was that?” Mick’s heavy frame thumped down in the passenger seat, leather on leather squeaked in complaint.

“What was what?”

It was cold out. Rio blew in his hands before maxxing out the heat.

“Draggin out Dags and Cisco”

“Didn’t like their attitude”

“They weren’t saying shit”

“Ya they were. Bein’ disrespectful. I ain’t putting up with that.”

“Bout you?”

And Rio hesitated just a second too long, just a moment, and Mick clocked it. Leaning slowly back into the window, he drew a cigarette, a knowing look flickering up in his eyes

“Or bout Elizabeth?”

Rio's eyes flashed a warning at Mick before slamming on the breaks to stop for a red. They jolted forward, his jaw rocking.

“So let me get this straight, you want Mrs. Boland’s name outta their mouth cause why? Cause it's just business?"

“She’s not my girl.”

“Didn’t ask.”

Mick shook his head before reaching for the handle. The crisp night air flooded the weighted silence between them.

“Pense que eras listo, _Boss"_


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we find Mick and Rio... in a car!
> 
> Mick POV.
> 
> Mid season 1 to the end of season 1.

“Can you believe that?”

“Mmm”

“So sick and tired of this ‘Housewives of fuckin’ Michigan’ act. Like I need them. I don’ need them! They don’ got a clue how this works. Not a fuckin clue!”

“Forreal.”

Sunlight poured through the windows as they stuttered down a grid-locked highway. Mick tilted his forehead against the window. He’s out of cigarettes, and the driver behind them was puffin’ away. The smell was polluting his nose, giving him a headache.

“I tell you she hustled some Botox?”

“Ya, ya did.”

“Called it ‘injectables’. Like, like... I don’t know… I got a buncha wrinkly old bitches on speed dial?”

“Ya, you mentioned it.”

“Like a shutdown is a shutdown mami. We all sufferin’. Ain't nothing I can do bout it.”

“Mhm”

“Unbelievable! No sweet clue, just wanna get their pretty hands on my money. Like I need their bitch ass drama.”

“Ya forreal man."

“She thinks she’s so innocent too. Givin’ me those puppy eyes. Can’t stand it.”

A trunk honked in the distance.

“So you done with them?”

There was a beat, and Rio turned to face him. 

“Whaddaya mean?”

Child-like confusion, for real, Marcus-being told-there-aint-no-Santa Claus-type-confusion written all over his face.

Like he ain't ever considered it, putting a stop to this "bitch ass drama". _Boy feeds on it, if you ask me._ A cast regular on their Housewives of Michigan. 

Fucking hell. He’d kill for a smoke.

* * *

A firm hand shook Mick’s shoulder, pulling him out of a dream and back into the cool leather interior where his Boss’ stern face was lit up in blue dashboard neon.

Was a weird dream too. He’d been in his childhood home ‘cept all the furniture was wrong…just angled differently, or upside down. No one was home.

He shook off the eerie lingering images and cricked his neck.

“Any sign of ‘im?”

“Not yet. Buddy’s bound to come out sooner or later.”

“Think he knows we out here?”

“Nah.”

Rio yawned and yanked his seat back. Tilting his head up, he closed his eyes.

Kid could always fall asleep so fuckin fast. It was infuriating. They’d sat in cars, takin’ shifts and watching the night slip by more times than he can count and each memory holds the same noise – that peaceful squirrel snore from the driver’s seat. Probably doesn’t dream either – just out like a light, every damn time.

He felt Rio jerk beside him, his head rolling to the side. A soft grumble stumbled out his lips.

Huh. Maybe something haunts that boy afterall.

After a minute or an hour, Mick catches a small sliver of light escaping from a back-alley door.

“Go time.”

Rio sits, stretching. Familiar fire lighting his eyes, a Cheshire grin reflecting in the moonlight.

“Let’s roll. “

\---------

“Yo what the hell!” That fire was dancing now.

The dash read 4:45AM, the car smelled of cold, unfinished coffee and their eyes were shadowed with itchy, dark exhaustion.

“Ahh Christ.” Laughter was bubbling up out of Mick as he rubbed his tired temple. It was that delirious _I shouldn’t be laughing but fuck, shit’s funny_ type of laugh. It felt good…. damn , poor guy. 

“I wanted you to scare him man. You fuckin’ shot his toes off. “

“Thought you gave the sign.”

“I gave you a nod – to spook him. Not to shoot the sad fucker.” Rio hit the steering wheel between bouts of surprised cackling. “Jesus. You see his face?”

“You gotta work on the nod”

“Nah my friend, you gotta work on not shootin’ some poor soul in the god damn feet.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

* * *

“Somethin’ on your face there, Boss.”

Rio was in a mood. His attitude was always fillin’ up spaces, hangin’ over everyone’s head, all dramatic-like.

His eyes flickered something lethal and Mick bit his cheek to halt a grin. A’int nothing he loves more than poking this ol’ bear.

“Elizabeth.” He muttered. Jaw tight.

Mick eyed the red, half-moon scratch that framed Rio’s left eye.

“What now?”

“Wasn’t too happy about the trucks. Threw the keys.”

Even if it hadn't been a low mumble, the words that came out of Rio’s mouth still would have caused Mick to squint long and hard.  
  


“At your head? Helluva 'n aim.”

“S’not funny.”

_Well…_

“So I told her to go home. We're done with her ya? Like you said. Her lily-ass couldn’t handle the heat after all. Figures.”

_There it is._

“So you pissed about the keys, or you pissed about the break-up?”

Rio didn’t turn his head, just started the car with a jolt.

Mick’s quiet snickering was drowned out only by the wheels screeching and peeling out into the Detriot sunset.

* * *

“O’ CANNNAAADAA”

It was a breezy, sunny day and they were two and a half hours deep into a ride up North. Had to check up on some manufacturing near Toronto.

The tradition was to belt the anthem as they closed in on the boarder. It had started as a way to shake their nerves back when they were still punky little kids, tryna get somethin’ goin’ internationally. 

and you know what? That corny shit just stuck around. 

He saw a smirk from the passenger seat. Rio sat up straight, hand over heart as he broke into a goofy low tenor “OUR HOME AND…..what is it?”

“It’s been a while man.”

“You want Timmies?”

“Those aren’t the words.”

“Ya dude, I’m askin. You wanna stop at Tim Horton’s?”

“Hell no. Their coffee’s shit.”

“Soups nice though.”

“You a soup man?”

“Yah I fuck with soup.”

“Just when I think I’ve figured you out.”

Rio smiled an easy smile, eye’s crinkling. He leaned back against the headrest, basking in the sunlight before abruptly snapping back up.

“Home and native land!!”

“Nah…that’s not it either.”

Things were going OK. Their house seemed to be in order, everyone workin' as they should. Money was a bit tight since the feds had been sniffin around but Rio said it'd be no time before the ladies came runnin' back for a cut. That they 'wouldn't stay away for long, no way'. I mean, Mrs. B sure as hell had more than one mouth to feed.

Maybe they weren't so bad, washed alot of cash - that's for sure. Smart too.

Yeah, everything was going smooth. 

* * *

The car was quiet without Chris. Too quiet.

Mick felt heavy all over. His knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Fuck.

He’s a pain in the ass most days but shit if he doesn’t love that kid. Good boss too, always treatin’ everybody right. Been good at the game since the day they’d met. Cocky as all hell, from the very beginning.

Now his lanky ass is in a holding cell and Mick’s eyes start getting misty at the thought of that skinny, indestructible son of a bitch shiverin’ between bars.

He watches as Rio strolls out the front doors, past the wire fencing and out into the parking lot where Mick is sitting idle. Still walkin’ around like he owns the place.

The car door slams shut.

“Hey”

He hands Rio a Tupperware container filled to the brim with luke warm pozole. Rio grins.

“Nana A?”

“Scared you weren’t eating.”

“She’s always tryna fatten me up.”

“That’s cause she was so successful with me, she's moved onto you.”

Rio started shoveling soup into his mouth, talking through mouthfuls. In the car and everything, damn. 

“Who post bail?”

“Mayor Mike.”

Rio’s eyebrows shoot up.

“That’s what Gretch said. Guess he got skittish thinkin’ that if you were put on trial - his little monthly packages might be found out.”

“He still doin that hey?”

“Guess so.”

“Gretch pissed?”

Mick gave Rio a hard look. “Everyone’s pissed. We got deals fallen through left and right.”

“Ah, it’ll be fine.”  
  


“Fine?!”

“I’m out, aren’t I? We’ll go out there ‘n show em there’s no reason to be spooked.”

Mick grit his teeth. He'd taken the quiet in this car for granted, should've enjoyed it while it lasted.

“Took little man to Teeball.”

Rio’s face softened. “Thank you. Pop ok?”

“Seemed normal. Rhea gave me an earful.”

“Bet she did.”

“Wanted me to tell you that Marcus didn’t see you on the news.”

Rio rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“He’s six years old. _Of course_ he didn’t see nothing, not unless I was cuffed by the Paw Patrol.”

Rio took a deep breath, focusing on the crisp evening air moving through his lungs. This was worn territory for him and Rhea, a tired song. Fuck, they must’ve had this fight like 60 times already.

But it’s not as if his stomach doesn’t drop at the thought of Marcus watching his daddy ducking into a cop car on the 6’oclock. He’ll never let that happen. Never.

“She said you’ve been distracted.”

Rio whipped his head around, facing Mick. Damn, he’d missed the guy.

“Whaddid you say?”

“I agreed.”

“Oh you two talkin’ bout me now?”

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then huh? She tell you I give Marcus sugar after 5? You gonna give me shit for that too?”

“It’s true, that’s all. You’ve been off your game a bit. Been… different.”

Another deep breath.

He knows what they’re dancing around. He knows Elizabeth's gotten under his skin. That it shows.

He should stop. Needs to, really. But he can’t stop thinking about her. Her stupid little hats. The way her chin juts out when she tries to challenge him.

Now she’s thrown his ass in jail and all he can think is….

_Well played, Elizabeth._

“Drop me off at the Boland’s.”

Mick’s shoulder sag with what looks like relief.

“You need me?”

“For what?”

“Help you take care of it?”

“Nah. “

“Nah?”

“I got it.”

Mick claps his meaty palm on Rio’s back.

“Good to have ya back Boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the positive feed back on my previous chapter!! I appreciate it so so much.  
> thank you to @joeyjoeylee for the idea of having a pick-up-from-jail scene!!  
> thank you to @whiskeyjack for allowing me to yell things like IS BURGER KING OOC? at her at all times, and for generally being a lovely supportive peach. 
> 
> Let me know what you liked, and what you'd like to see more of (yes.... there will be more... no, they will never leave the confines of a car)


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bus, it's a train... it's two crime dads in a car!
> 
> Mick and Rio POV .
> 
> (Early season 2 to late season 2.)

He was gonna tell him. Course he was. Had no reason to hide it, it’s not like he did something wrong.

She was valuable, and he had a plan. End of story.

But

His phone just _had_ to ring.

Lit up and flashing between them in ominous, neon warning were the words “Elizabeth Boland. Accept / Decline”.

“That comin’ from beyond the grave?”

“Got jokes huh?” 

Mick didn’t respond, he just rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands for the duration of a lengthy, dramatic sigh.

“Go on, answer.”

The phone was rattling, shaking, and singing as Rio slammed his hand down to silence it. Then suddenly, the whole car was quiet, too quiet. His stomach twisted nervously, like back when his _abuela_ would catch him in a lie. It made him wanna squirm, hit something, make it worse and then regret it. Anything.

They drove for a while, the streetlights illuminated Mick’s solemn face in flashes. One after the other after the other, his expression remained stony.  
  
“I shot her husband.”

The next streetlamp revealed a small, reluctant smirk before their features were plunged back into darkness.

* * *

“You know I got debts too. Not just fun and games.”

“I’m not playin’”

“So what is this. What’s the plan.”

“Same plan. We flip. Big Al came through with the pills, just gotta iron out some details then we good.”

“And Mrs. Cleaver over here is what? Gonna make us all cookies and keep quiet? “

“Yeah… the lady responsible for your last 3 paydays is gonna be making us all cookies.”

“She set you up, Chris.”

His eyes were locked forward, jaw pulsing. “I think she could be somethin’”

“Shouldn’t be breathin’ if you ask me.”

“Good thing I ain’t askin'.”

* * *

Was this album always so dope? Every song seemed to be hittin' the spot right now.

There is a little park just ‘round the corner from where he’s parked at Mick’s place. Huh, he ain’t ever noticed that before. It’s cute too, community garden and shit.

Rio rolled down the windows to let the crisp autumn air hit his lungs.

Wasn’t soon before the image of Elizabeth’s furrowed brows were dancing behind his eyelids. He laughed softly to himself remembering the way she’d lied. Eyes fixed on her son, tiny hands clutching that big mama purse, she’d detailed killing a man like she was tellin’ him how to cook dinner. Nerves of steel. Yeah, she’d forgotten to follow up and take out a bullet, but damn if she wasn’t fast on feet.

_“Make me sound good though yah?”_

He felt his cock twitch at all the filthy lies that might’ve come spilling out her lips that day.

Were they born of fantasy?

Did she think of him like he thought of her?

* * *

The radio was on, which was weird. Kid’s been some moody lately, now he’s bringin’ Dre into this? 

Who fuckin’ knows.

“Sup?”

“You ready?”

“All set.” Mick tossed his bag into the trunk with a grunt.

“When’s the flight?”

“Three.”

“Oh you _early_ early huh?”

“I don’ like being late.”

Rio chuckled and revved the engine. The smooth shake of the highway beneath the tires, and the steady beat of the music lulling Mick into a pleasant trance until a hand shuffling in the backseat pulled him back to reality.

A colorful package landed in Mick’s lap.

“For Celia.”

He eyed Rio with confusion, his hands tentatively flipping over the pink and purple wrapping.

“It’s her birthday yah? That’s why you going?”

“Thank you, man. That’s real sweet.”

Hard to stay mad, Kid’s like a brother.

“Yah just don take credit for it. That’s from her Uncle Rio.” He rolled his shoulder out, grinning. “The guy who hooks her old man up with fat stacks.”

“You mean the guy responsible for her old man’s gray hair.”

* * *

Rio’d seen Beth’s little one, Jane, running around with those pastel polaroid cameras. Elizabeth had been interrupted a time or two at the picnic table by a tiny hand shoving some blurry picture of a squirrel into her face.

The memory had made him smile so he’d picked one up for Celia. She’d like it, her figured. Jane did.

“What’s goin on this weekend for you?”

“Got some catching up to do at the bar.”

Mick grunted in response before shuffling to exit.

“See you later man”

“Yeah don’ miss me too much.”

Rio was smiling to himself as he circled out of the drop-off lane, Mick trundling through the sliding doors in his rearview. Picturing his grumpy ass removing leather and chucks for security made Rio huff out a laugh. Dude's a trip, loves his daughter though.

Flicking the music back on, he mouthed the words soundlessly while he drummed his palms on the steering wheel. He was about halfway home when he noticed his phone flashing.

Elizabeth:

_It’s done. I took care of it. For real this time._

Damn, this day keeps gettin’ better and better.

* * *

He’d only been gone for the weekend and then some but

Somethin’ changed.

He didn’t know what.

…well he could make some educated guesses.

It wasn’t funny though.

Chris was the protective sort, possessive even. Take Marcus for example, ever since he held that baby boy in his arms -day one, no one touched him.

No one dared look at him. Half of their boys don’t even know he existed.

Now, somehow, Mrs. B had climbed those ranks within a matter of months. Wasn't just the cash rollin' in neither. 

“Darrel’s?” Rio jerked his head in the direction of the exit sign.

“Nah.”

“You sure? Those coupons of yours gonna expire soon.”

"Not hungry.” 

There was a beat as uncomfortable silence settled in around them. Mick cleared his throat. “Need me at the dealership?”

“No man, I’m good.”

“You sure?

“Yah, I’m sure.”

Yeah. Somethin’ was different alright.

* * *

“Will the food be made of Lego?”

“I hope not, we’d go hungry real fast if it was.”

“What about the beds?”

“Guess we’ll find out huh?” He reached back and ruffled his son’s hair, hoisting a small Minion backpack up to the seat beside his booster.

Rio groaned dramatically. “Pop whatchu got in here? Since when did Mr.Bubsy start weighin’ 100 pounds?”

Marcus peered up at his dad, eyes wide like the answer was obvious. “I brought my Lego.”

“All of it?!”

“I … want them to be with their friends.” 

“Well that’s good. That’s a real good thing, ‘cause I wouldn’t want 'em to feel left behind.”

Marcus beamed from the backseat. “Exactly.” He patted the top of his backpack self-assuredly.

The car slowed to a stop.

“Alright. You boys be good now.”

Rio put the luggage down onto the sidewalk as Mick unbuckled Marcus, hoisting little man onto his hip, tiny arms clinging around his tattooed neck.

They were almost the same size now, looked funny together.

“Yo gotta talk to you.”

“What's up?”

Mick coughed, eyeing Marcus as he set him down.

“Ey, why don’t you give your momma a call? Say goodbye yah?”

“I already did.”

There was a soft grunt as Rio squat down to peer at his son. He brushed his floppy brown hair softly away from his face.

“Bet she’d like to know which movies you brought for the plane ride though.” 

Once he heard Rhea’s exuberant coos and excited chatter on the other end, he turned back to Mick.

“Your girl’s goin' down for murder.”

“Not my girl.”

“Come on. This is serious”

“Yeah, I’m not seein’ what this gotta do with me.”

Mick shook his head. His eyes were shadowed and gray.

“Sick of this, man.”

“What’s that now?”

“ _Sick of this_. You need to deal with your shit. Or we all go down.”

Rio glared, feeling heat prickle from under his collar. In the distance, he could hear Marcus blowing his Mom goodbye kisses.

Mick shifts, leaning closer to speak in a harsh whisper.

“This is on you.”

“Alright pop, you ready to go?”

Marcus cheered and clutched his father’s hand. Rio didn’t tear his eyes away from Mick. Swallowing as his jaw set painfully.

Eventually, he heard the car door slam.

Marcus looked back and waved.

Rio kept his eyes forward. 

* * *

Mick could hear sirens three blocks away. 

He knew where they were headed. 

Same place he was. Red lights, stop signs, it all blurred past him, his foot never letting up on the gas. 

They'd talked about a code red, sure. He knew the drill. Never thought he'd have to do it though, make those calls, be here. 

It's part of the job, bein ready to die. Mick's ready. Got Celia squared away with a saving account. He ain't scared.

He just never thought to prepare himself for the flip side, you know, if he wasn't the one to go. If it was Chris. 

Never thought about it. Never wanted to. 

He didn't wanna be king, just wanted to ride shotgun to glory. 

The brick was lit up in blue and red. He couldnt hear the siren no more though. Couldn't hear anything. 

Come on kid, get up. 

Get in the ambulance, man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has been enjoying this! I hope this final installment makes you happy, i'd love you hear your feedback! <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Ill save you the google translate. The last line is "Thought you were being smart Boss"
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! I am excited to continue it and have it get a bit darker as shinanegans ensue.  
> I'd really love to hear what you think!! or any moments in the car you'd like to see!!  
> Does Rio do Starbucks?? Whats his go-to? Who is the better parallel parker?  
> Do they practice their nods??


End file.
